The Trouble with TimeTurners
by K. Knocks
Summary: Previously titled "While You Were Gone". Hermione has a slip-up with her time-turner and ends up running into, you guessed it, Draco Malfoy. Set during third year. ONE SHOT.


**A/N:** Eeeee! First off, hi! I'm Kaiya, and this is my first story...so go easy on me. ;D Secondly, "While You Were Gone" is a working title, and I'll probably leave it be until the story is finished. Third, thank you so much for taking the time to read this. It's awfully kind of you, and it means a lot to me. (: Finally, enjoy and all that jazz!

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Chapter One: Fall of 1993

"_I don't know if pig-headedness is more aggravating or admirable." – Draco Malfoy_

"_I think that determination is important, keeping your chin up is important." – Hermione Granger_

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"Professor, I'm fine. Honest," the thirteen-year-old girl said, the unavoidable limp betraying her lie.

"I do not want to hear another word, Miss Granger. I am escorting you to the hospital wing to have that ankle mended," Professor Sprout replied, eyeing Hermione suspiciously. The girl was acting so strange. It wasn't like her to talk back or make a fuss. Then again, it wasn't like her to trip on her way out of the greenhouses either.

Hermione did not respond, she knew a dead end when she faced one. She also knew a predicament when she found herself consumed by one. The issue was, she knew who else was in the hospital wing, and he was not a stupid boy. _Well,_ she thought, _he is certainly moronic, but he's right behind me for top of the class…_ She mentally shook herself and went back to evaluating the issue at hand. She had been coming out of the greenhouses when she had missed the step and jimmied her ankle, but she had also been standing with Ron and Harry for their care of magical creatures lesson. She sighed, the time turned McGonagall had given her at the beginning of the year was proving to be tricky to master. Though this was her first incident, she had caught herself nearly making a mistake a few times—the result would have been fate-altering and enough to get her into a _lot_ of trouble with the school.

"Good afternoon, Pamona! What seems to be the problem?" Ah, Madam Pomfrey. Ever direct.

"Miss Granger here has done her ankle in, Poppy, coming out of the greenhouses just moments ago."

Outwardly flinching, the Gryffindor girl was doing her best to avoid looking at the boy lying on a nearby hospital bed, nursing an injured arm. He had also been at the care of magical creatures lesson…until a certain hippogryff had lost patience with him.

The school's healer and herbology professor exchanged a few more words, and Professor Sprout left. "Come along, Miss Granger. I'll fix you up in a jiffy." Hermione followed the healer to the bed across from the Slytherin boy's and sat down. Her legs were promptly lifted up onto the bed, a hand pressed to her shoulder to lie her down. Madam Pomfrey bustled around her for a little while after having her drink a potion for the pain; she wanted Hermione to be comfortable before resetting the bones.

"I'll be back in a few to reset your ankle, dear. You just sit tight until I get back and don't think about making any plans for afterward, you'll be staying the night." Hermione didn't protest, though she knew that both of her best friends would have had they been in her place. She just nodded and watched the school healer walk away.

The door had barely closed with Draco Malfoy sneered at her. "Couldn't fix it yourself, Granger? You just _had_ to contaminate my air with your mudblood lungs? Can't you see I'm wounded? That damn bird nearly killed me!"

Honestly, had Hermione been in an alternate universe, she would have laughed to the point of tears at the spoiled brat's whining. Alas, she was not and therefore would not. The only part she could concentrate on was the whole "mudblood lungs" bit, anyway. Deciding that it was better to not say anything, she ignored him.

"I thought you were at care of magical creatures with the giant oaf, Weasel, and Potter?" he bit. She sat up and quirked an eyebrow at him but otherwise ignored him. As usual, he was tiptoeing along dangerous territory. Only this time, it had nothing to do with her emotional strength. A blessing and a curse because he was instead focused on something no was allowed to know about.

"Why did Sprout think you were coming from the greenhouses? I just saw you in the clearing with Weasel and Potter." His tone was demanding, his gray eyes flashing.

Rolling her eyes, she finally responded, "That's none of your business, Malfoy."

Fortunately for them both, Madam Pomfrey returned to set Hermione's ankle. She tsk-tsk'd when she had to again press the young girl's shoulder to make her lie down. Really, what was so wrong with lying down on a bed for a few minutes? She wondered. "This shouldn't hurt, dear, but concentrate on something else anyway. The crack is rather awful." Hermione nodded and looked around for something to capture her interest. As the seconds ticked on and the healer took hold of her ankle, her eyes were flying around the hospital wing and a small bit of panic was setting in. Madam Pomfrey jerked her ankle, and Hermione's attention focused on Draco.

He saw her looking at him, but he was too surprised by her attention to work up a sneer before her ankle was set and she was glancing away. She hadn't made a noise, not one, and the only thing that had told him that the potion hadn't worked, at least not fully, was the clenching of her jaw and the drawing of her eyebrows.

"Alright, Miss Granger, your ankle is all set, but I'd like you to just stay here and take it easy. You can rejoin your comrades tomorrow mor—"

"Madam Pomfrey, I hate to interrupt, but I really am quite fine now," Hermione interjected. As if to prove it, she gestured to her foot and rotated it around its sore joint. Again, Draco noted the slight tensing of her facial features that went unnoticed by the healer; she was watching the girl's feet, after all. The healer in question pursed her lips, obviously not wanting to let a previously injured student roam the halls, but what choice did she have? The girl was fine, there was no reason to keep her.

"Alright, if you're sure then. Just drink a little more of the potion before you go." With that, Madam Pomfrey walked straight into her office, entirely ignoring her other "injured" student. She had little patience for Mr. Malfoy and his overdramatic tendencies.

Once the healer was safely out of earshot in her office, the door closed, Hermione took a second dose of the pain potion and worked on lowering herself onto the floor. She tried being discrete about the pain she was in, but what was the worst that could happen? Malfoy could tell Madam Pomfrey that she was cringing? Oh, boy.

"Why not just stay put, Granger? You could be missing the rest of your classes," the boy in question drawled.

Hermione looked at him, her emotions masked by a blanket of discomfort. "With you? Ha, right," she retorted. No way in Godric's beard would she stay overnight with him, anywhere. She would just stand there, vaguely aware of him watching her, and wait for the potion to kick in, then she'd be on her way. Soon enough, the pain was numbed enough to be a constant ache rather than a splitting or stabbing pain. Taking a hesitant step forward, she hissed through her teeth. One step closer to putting her feet up by the fire in the Gryffindor common room. Another step—and another—her hand held out toward the bed next to her, just in case.

"Granger." Draco waited for her to look at him. He realized then that he couldn't say what he had been about to. So, he plastered on his smirk and sneered, "Could you move a little faster? I think I'm allergic to your hair."

The girl blinked, dumbstruck into silence (a rare occurrence, you know). His audacity shocked her, his rudeness hurt her, and her own weakness where his bullying was concerned infuriated her. Name calling rarely bothered her enough to cause her to react, but she felt her hand moving toward her wand. Still smirking, Draco continued to watch her. "Temper, temper," he tsk'd. Hermione scowled, obviously battling with herself: to attack or to not attack. She chose the latter, turned gently on her heel, and headed toward the doors.

Draco's gray eyes followed her every movement until she was no longer visible. That girl had some serious fire in her bones, he mused, but he knew she never would have actually attacked him. she wouldn't dare for fear of what his pureblood family would do to her. His face hardened and his body went rigid along with it. The next thing he knew, he was stalking out of the hospital wing.

A short time later, Madam Pomfrey finally reentered the hospital wing to tend to Malfoy's "wound". He obviously wasn't there which surprised her, but she smiled slightly. Something had distracted him from his need for attention.


End file.
